Careless in the Dark
by Yuki Kimagure
Summary: Everyone called him careless. And when Riku always gave him that dissaproving look after he did something stupid it made him furious. But could being careless be a good thing after all? R/S S/OC Yaoi, drug use. Oneshot. R&R!


A/N: I wanted to write a story was a little dark. Not too much, but dark enough to fit the rainy day that I'm in my art history class. But I think that I'll probably be mellowing this out over time. After all, it's not going to be raining every day, which kind of sucks for the mood of this story. I don't want it to be sunny! Well, hope you like how random and short this'll be.

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**Careless in the Dark**

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He couldn't understand.

Whenever Riku gave him that look, that sad and disappointed look, Sora knew that his friend didn't understand. He didn't understand _him_. Frankly, no one really did. He never really let people close enough anymore.

So he guarded himself behind a stupid joke or a careless smile. Everything about him was careless. When he decided to disappear for a week and telling no one where he went people called him careless. He ran over the mangy neighborhood cat while using his father's car without permission and drinking stolen booze with his friends. And when Riku ran from his yard to tend to the dying animal while Sora stumbled out of the car Riku _himself_ had called him careless.

So he was careless. And he knew that he didn't care.

He'd started dating some girl in his class at high school because he didn't care. She wanted him and he didn't really have a reason not to. There was nothing better he could have done and everyone told him that he should have.

"Why don't you? She's really cute and totally smart."

_Yeah, why not. Nothing else better to do_.

They watched horrible movies with her head on his shoulder and he walked her to the bus stop, not able to drive her home because he still had a suspended license. And he smoked too much pot to care that he accidentally stood her up for homecoming because he was too stoned. And he didn't show enough emotion when the condom slipped off and she was crying. He eventually found something better to do when she asked him to take her to the store to buy a pregnancy test.

He found a new friend.

They spent a lot of time together, a quiet and brooding kid who had been kicked out of too many schools to find a better place than their dumpy little campus in the middle of nowhere. But the guy had great ideas, he was inspiring, rough, experimental. Like Sora, he was careless.

It was with this new friend that he learned about the government's lies, about wars and genocide that people didn't give a shit about. They made poetry, held two-man strikes, and organized enough starry-eyed lackeys to hold an official sit-in on the campus lawn for AIDS sufferers in Africa. And as Sora was being dragged off to class by the campus administration while his friend was yelling about his Amendment rights, he saw Riku across the walkway with those sad and disappointed eyes, fist gripping the strap of his heavy backpack.

Riku annoyed Sora, he _infuriated_ him. The guy who lived down the street with the mom that always made the best lemon bars and could do no wrong. He was on the student union, part of the soccer team, and casually helped out in the dance committee because his girl-friends were all there and insisted that he go. And like a pussy he couldn't tell anyone no because he was taught to be accommodating, that good guys socialized and helped out when they could.

See, at _that_ time, Sora didn't remember Riku anymore. To him, Riku was just another guy in his class that he went to school with since forever in that small little suburban town. But Riku remembered the boy all along. He remembered when Sora used to smile and play with everyone else and how his teachers always beamed when he was placed in their classes. He also remembered the boy that kissed the prettiest girl in class in the second grade when they watched _The Little Mermaid_ because she had the most beautiful red hair.

But that Sora that used to be so fun, so bright and sunny, had grown into a careless and misunderstood teen that everyone liked to see what would happen next. And Sora continued to be irritated with Riku's presence whenever he did wrong, hating his silent and scornful gaze that reminded him of his stupid grandfather that smelled like tuna and peanuts.

When Sora's friend had been kicked out of yet another high school, the teen was suddenly alone. There was no one there to smoke with and just say whatever the hell he wanted to with. There were no more rallies, no more schemes and ideas that excited him and made him excited for the next day. No one could excite him like that; no one could speak to his free spirit like his friend did. No boy _wouldn't_ punch him when he woke up in a marijuana-induced haze with Sora's lips fluttering on his chin.

Sora sat in his room and mourned his lost friendship the entire weekend. He knew that the boy wouldn't call him, e-mail, or even send out a postcard. He was going to be alone in his thoughts and feelings. Again Sora was going to be isolated in a ho-drum world of paper cul-de-sacs, dry country air, deathly black crows, and faceless people.

He could hear the faculty breathing a sigh of relief when it was just Sora in their classes, someone that was easier to deal with, who didn't have any fuel for his fire anymore. Their once club-like following had disbanded and was re-assimilated into the population. And Riku still watched Sora curiously out of the corner of his eye three seats ahead while his girl-friend copied his notes.

When Sora didn't draw his way through countless sketchbooks, he read about art. He was fascinated with the avant-garde, the exhibition artist that would cover her body with red paint and walk naked in the streets while singing about rape and women's issues. His walls were covered with more drawings than the nearest gallery twenty miles away, which he visited by bus.

Before prom, he was admitted to art school, miles away from anything the small minded population had been to. It was in the city, where people were free to do as they chose. The pictures his lost friend had shown him of the city illustrated women with shaved heads and pierced eyebrows, long lashes fully mascara-ed and men looking exactly the same as his friend, wearing John Lennon and Bob Marley shirts and hair long and unruly with cheap black shades perched on top.

To celebrate his impending freedom, Sora went to the prom with a boy that no one knew. Frankly he was a friend of his cousin, who was staying with them for the weekend before they continued on their way to Mexico for the summer. The guy was cute and he didn't mind the way Sora would watch him from the shallow end of the backyard pool as he toweled off his sinewy body. And the guy enjoyed the cute faces that he made when he sucked Sora off in the bathroom while his cousin was helping Sora's mom with the groceries.

When they stepped into the gaudily decorated conference room of the only grand hotel in the neighborhood, every faceless person noticed the lack of a dress between the couple. They whispered and giggled, jerking their chins so obviously towards the two as they got some watery Hawaiian punch. Sora's hands shook as he spilled the drink onto the pristine white plastic tablecloth from the sudden attention that everyone was giving him. He was so sure that everything was going to be okay. Normally everyone ignored his antics, laughing for a few moments at the most whenever he did something so outrageous that the school administration had to get involved.

However, he was careless.

He was careless as he allowed his date to drag him on the dance floor, even though they received lewd catcalls as the guy put his hands around his waist. And he was careless when he let his date kiss him in the corner when he was feeling that it was a bad idea to even go to the dance. But he had enjoyed how his tongue soothed him better than his forgotten ex-girlfriend's had, and how his date tasted of mints and cheap sugary punch.

His mind didn't understand why he didn't leave when he saw a few guys from the football team gathered in the bathroom by the urinals. The obvious sense of warning told him to leave and find another restroom or at least a discarded cup. But he didn't notice how they all looked to each other as he unzipped his fly and relieved himself a few stalls down.

They had beat him for what seemed like hours until a chaperone followed by the principal came to his aid, hauling the boys off of him as he tried so hard to breathe. His date was freaked as he called an ambulance from his cell phone with shot nerves and a cursing tongue. With all of the commotion that was happening as the paramedics inspected his urine reeking clothes and blood stained mouth, Sora just couldn't understand why he didn't think it was going to happen, that no one would do more than snicker at him as he, for once, started to enjoy himself around normal society.

Why didn't he realize how careless he really was?

As they put his tired body onto the stretcher and awkwardly maneuvered it out of the building and past every shocked, concerned, and curious person that suddenly had grown so very distinct faces, Sora tuned everything out. But as they left the conference room and all of its ridiculous streamers, he could see the expression painted on Riku's solemn ghostly white face as the principal gratefully hugged the silent teen. However it wasn't a look of disappointment or anything like that.

_Why does he look so worried?_

--

Graduation soon came and Sora was too tired to care about attending, which made his mother disappointed.

"I'll still get the paper. It's not like its such a big deal," he sighed, huddled under his comforter and watching cartoons on the sofa.

But it _was_ a big deal to her. For the mother of the boy that everyone said was a bad apple, a sad trick of fate on a pleasant and upstanding couple, she wanted to prove everyone wrong. She wanted to doll her son up and show that he _wasn't_ as bad as they all believed him to be, that he wasn't a failure that was aging her far beyond her years as he currently was at that point in time.

Honestly, she wished that she could have her smiling little boy back, the one that still liked girls and wanted to be a doctor. And her heart secretly grew bitter because of the son that she secretly caught receiving oral sex from a virtual stranger in the bathroom when she was about to tell him that she'd brought home lunch. And she felt selfish in the sadness that she felt, knowing that she probably wasn't ever going to have grandchildren to make cookies for and spoil as much as she did for Sora.

Luckily, Sora never cared to notice that those thoughts were brewing through his sweet mother. He was too busy wondering why Riku's mother kept sending her son over with her famous lemon bars and making Riku spend at least an hour a day at his house to make sure 'the little queer boy down the street is alright.' And he was too confused at why Riku never seemed to get too annoyed at his mother for sending him when it would obviously have been in his best interest to avoid the house like the plague if he still wanted to have his friends.

"Won't your _girlfriend_ be pissed that you're spending all of your time here?" asked Sora, nibbling on a sandwich as he played his game on his Playstation 3. His uninterested eyes absorbed the bright light of the television as he continued to run over screaming pedestrians with an SUV.

Riku laughed casually and continued to watch the brunet from his spot draped on the couch.

"I don't have a girlfriend."

It was simply stated, not intending anything more or less than what was said and Sora snorted in response.

"That's what _you_ think. Claire's been eyeing your cock since junior year like it's an Italian handbag."

"I know. I'm just… not _into _that right now. At least not with her."

Sora just rolled his eyes, watching as he ran around and made sure he picked up all of the money he could from the bloody bodies before the police could beat him.

"You're so weird."

--

Sure enough, as Sora knew it, Riku wasn't going anywhere. Actually, he wasn't going anywhere that was _too_ far from _him_. That fall, Riku and Sora started college in the same city and almost the same school. Apparently, the art school that Sora was attending actually had a sister university nearby that interested his new forced friend.

They lived in different dorms, though Riku seemed a bit disappointed. Sora wasn't one to be too close and touchy and besides, he _really_ wanted to live life on his own and do whatever the hell he wanted without worrying if Riku was coming back.

He posted around and found a nice girl to room with. She was okay enough, though he didn't like how his mom kept saying how adorable she was and that they should spend more time together. By that time his roommate, Kaya, had already told him that she was a lesbian so that idea was totally out.

Whenever Riku decided to make a pest out of himself and visit Kaya was always fawning over how cute he was, something that annoyed Sora a lot.

_He's not even that attractive. I mean, if you like the old woman look with his gray hair and chicky face then sure, whatever._

The more it seemed that Riku and Kaya became friends, the more that the guy was over at their dorm, and the more that Sora wanted his own space. After all, Riku wasn't all that cool to be around whenever Sora wanted to smoke pot and have a little fun. He'd always go back to those disappointed gazes as he snatched the joint out of his hand and flush it down the toilet. Sora eventually learned to scare Riku away by keeping gay porn on the television.

When Sora finally found a boyfriend, at least one that didn't just give him a blow-job when they were bored, Riku stopped visiting as much as he used to. The brunet was relieved, whenever his friend randomly decided to stomach the obvious PDA for their friendship it was always awkward half started conversations on unrelated topics.

Sora really liked his boyfriend. The guy was, yet again, exciting. He played the guitar in the local café and lived in the brick and poster covered loft above for reduced rent. They'd wander the city and he didn't even bat an eyelash when he found Sora's hidden stash of pot, unlike stupid Riku.

Riku didn't like Sora's boyfriend at _all_. He couldn't really place it but there was something so utterly off about his personality. One day he would be depressed as hell and the next he would be in the clouds, hugging total strangers and telling them how beautiful they were. Kaya didn't find a problem with him, hinting to Riku that he might be jealous because he wasn't getting attention anymore. But Riku didn't even give a thought to it, feeling a sick warmth at the pit of his stomach that made him need to change the conversation.

It took until Riku came into Sora's dorm to borrow a CD from Kaya that he noticed it. He slammed the door and tried to keep the angry tears from stinging his eyes. Riku felt stupid. How hadn't he noticed the scars on the guy's arms, or how he'd never seen him in a t-shirt for the four months that he'd known him. What made it worse was that Sora obviously didn't care about the used needles on his bedside table that he had later explained that his boyfriend had diabetes. But Riku's sweets-loving aunt _herself_ had diabetes.

Sora didn't have a clue as why Riku cared so much. Sure, his boyfriend was a junkie, he knew that months ago. Any persuasion and yelling from his friend wasn't going to change Sora's interest in him. If anything, it made Sora want his boyfriend that much more. He wanted nothing to do with Riku's straight morals and stupid perfect life.

But when Sora accidentally overdosed on a prescription cocktail that his boyfriend had given him, he started to change his mind. He yet again wondered why he was being so careless. And especially when, for once, Riku didn't give him that tried-and-true scolding look when he quietly shuffled in with some package-made soup. For once, he was glad with Riku's company. His friend was easy to talk to, not minding if Sora just wanted to sit there and have company. And Riku gladly skipped a few classes just to watch Jerry Springer re-runs on the hospital television with him.

For once in his life, Sora's carelessness felt good.

The next year, Sora moved with Riku into a small dingy apartment a few blocks away from their universities. They spent the first two weeks before the semester started to fix it up into something relatively decent. Kaya had plenty of jokes of her own, teasing them on the fact that it was a one bedroom flat, which made Sora wonder why Riku even liked to associate with her. They had separate beds, though Riku easily didn't seem to care whether they shared one or not.

_He's so freaking weird_.

Sora didn't have to worry about getting kicked out of the room too often when Riku had company. He only really had a few one-night stands after some parties but not enough to count on an entire hand. And when Riku _did_ have a girl coming from the shower in a skimpy bath towel, he didn't seem to give her anything more than a few platonic glances.

At night, sleeping on his separate bed on the other side of the room, Sora would sketch the way Riku slept. It started at first as a way for him to use the time that he restlessly laid awake, waiting for sleep. However, as time went on, he started to sketch things in the room by a small book light, and Riku's languid body sprawled across his bed was a lot more interesting than the second rendition of his own hand.

He filled his sketchbook with drawings of Riku. They showed him sleeping with a pillow snuggled close to him or spread almost erotically across the mattress on a hot night wearing nothing but his boxers.

The one time that Sora had actually been able to capture a drawing of Riku naked, he had been just sneaking in to get a few things before class. It was obvious from the torn top of a condom wrapper on the floor that he had been with another girlfriend while Sora was out. By the way that Riku was lightly snoring, Sora knew that his friend wasn't going to wake up for at least another hour.

Gears in the brunet's head started turning and he perched himself behind one of his larger drawing pads with a few sticks of charcoal and a knead-able eraser. He worked as fast as he could, not wanting to be caught before he actually was able to finish. Class could wait, it was just drawing anyway and he knew that his professor would have been pissed if he missed out on the opportunity.

A scandalous jolt rushed through him when he suddenly noticed Riku's unwavering sea-green eyes watching him. Sora didn't know what to say, being caught with his eyes roving over his friend's body and replicating it faithfully onto acid-free paper. He wanted to keep drawing, but the sudden bold acknowledgement that Riku knew what he was doing kept him from making another stroke.

They just stared at each other for a moment, before Sora hesitantly continued, slowing down as he felt himself get a hard-on under the protection of his art pad. The almost searing gaze of Riku's curious eyes didn't help soothe his thoughts as he continued to draw. He felt like a pervert, nervously shifting his eyes from Riku's exposed hip back to his maturing artwork.

After Sora packed up his supplies and awkwardly left to class when the drawing was finished, the two didn't say anything about it for weeks, busying themselves with lukewarm conversations and homework on other sides of the apartment. The fixative sprayed drawing lay hidden in the corner of the closet in Sora's portfolio, seeming like some kind of secret pornography. Every now and then, the brunet would pull it out and take a quick glance before nervously shoving it back away.

Riku came home one night while Sora had just secretly finished a blunt out of the bathroom window. Sora didn't think that his friend would have noticed the faint scent of pot on his clothes or the way his sentences seemed to take a lot longer than they normally did. He didn't know that Riku wasn't oblivious to the fact that the bathroom was always reeking of Oust every other day when he wasn't home.

They ate the takeout that Riku brought home and laughed at stupid jokes. The brunet couldn't understand why his friend was in such a good mood but the marijuana coursing through him made him not care too much about it. His friend was fun again in what seemed like ages and he hadn't said anything about how he was so obviously stoned.

When Sora went to bed, he didn't mind the feeling of another body pressing close to him on the mattress. Nor did he care to reject Riku's cold hands pinching and exploring his lonely skin. The pot made his mind careless as he bent his knee to allow Riku's hand through the waistband of his shorts. But the drug-induced haze that made his tolerant mind even more careless than usual made things a lot easier.

Maybe being careless wasn't at all that bad.

--

A/N: Okay, I know that this is a little random with the ending. I purposely didn't have them _really_ get together for a reason. Since this was just to be a small piece of the bizarre life of Sora, the drugged out loser-kid with sexual issues, I wanted to keep it short and weird. His life wasn't supposed to be fulfilling, with him trying to figure out his sexuality, his weird friendship with the not-so-normal Riku, and what his life really is about.

Maybe someday I might develop this out into a short kind of mini-story that'll make sense and talk more about the few people that influence his life and evolve Riku out a bit more. Until then, please tell me what you think of this. Tell me if it's weird, if you hate it or not, anything. I kind of spit it out in two class periods and I know it needs a lot of revision to make it decent.


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